


This is Real Life (Not a Lesbian Porno)

by eirana



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderswap, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirana/pseuds/eirana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another life, Adam is Amanda, Kris is Kristine Mills and Cale totally ships it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Real Life (Not a Lesbian Porno)

**Author's Note:**

> I decided that if Kris had been born a girl, she would’ve married Cale. That somehow led to all of this. This used to be called _All-Access Pass: This is Real Life (Not a Lesbian Porno)_ but I thought that was too long. Not that the new title is that much shorter.

This cannot be real life.

“Oh my god, Kris, you did it!”

Apparently it is.

Kristine Allen Mills is part of the Top 36. She made it past the judges and is actually getting screen-time. Cale is spinning her around, making her dizzy—possibly enough to puke—but she doesn’t even care; she did it. She actually did it.

“I did it!” Kris says, laughing with him, the smile on her face big enough to rival the one on Cale’s. After a few days, it’s finally starting to sink in. She’s just made it onto the biggest singing competition in the country.

He puts her down after a while, setting her back onto her feet gently and leaning down to give her a slow, thorough kiss.

“You’re going to win this, honey,” Cale says against her lips, soft but sure.

She flushes. “You don’t know that. You haven’t seen who I’m up against. There are some seriously amazing people this season, Cale. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Bullshit,” someone says, interrupting their private party.

Kris spins around in Cale’s embrace to face the newcomer, coming face to…chest with them. It’s a girl Kris has seen around a lot the past week. She’s tall, about Cale’s height and decked out in leather and eyeliner, but the look on her face is friendly, the smile genuine. Her name escapes Kris; she thinks it’s something that starts with an A. Amanda, maybe? She has an amazing voice and is clearly one of the judges’ favorites this year.

“I beg your pardon?”

She laughs, loud and infectious. “You are even cuter up close. I’m Adam—yes, that’s my real name—Lambert,” she says, holding a hand out for Kris to take.

She shakes it warily, bemused. Adam is…interesting. Cale doesn’t seem to share her trepidation, taking hold of Adam’s hand as soon as she lets go of Kris’.

“Cale Mills. This is my lovely wife, Kris Allen—we thought Kris Mills sounded funny. You make it into the Top 36, too, or are you just hanging around being a sad sack?”

Kris shakes her head. She can tell by his tone of voice that he probably has that typical huge, idiotic grin on his face. She rolls her eyes and catches Adam doing the same, grinning at her when their gazes meet.

Kris jumps when Cale pinches her side. “No sharing looks with strangers, Kristine. I know when you’re giving someone that ‘see what an idiot I married?’ look.”

She elbows him. “Forgive him. I’ve tried to train him to behave but he’s too stupid for it to take.”

Adam beams at them. “It’s kind of endearing. And to answer your question, Mr. Mills, I’m not here because I’m moping. I’ll be competing alongside your lovely wife for a spot in the Top Twelve. According to the list, we’ll be in the same group.”

Kris perks up. “You’re in Group Two?”

She nods. “I look forward to seeing you on that stage, Kris. And for what it’s worth, I’m with your husband on this one; you’ll win it all.” With that, she walks away, out of the hotel doors and into the busy LA street.

“You better become best friends with that woman or I’m divorcing you,” Cale says into her ear, dead serious.

Kris scoffs. “Like I’ll be around long enough to get to know her that well.”

~*~

She’s officially part of the Top Twelve.

Holy shit.

Hearing her name get called had been surreal. Kris had been so sure that Adam and Allison Iraheta—a sixteen-year-old with bright red hair and the voice and stage presence of someone years older—would both get spots, but Kris had come in out of nowhere to take one. She, Adam, and Matt Giraud—a dueling pianist with a strange attachment to his fedora and a penchant for flirting a little too much with Kris—had survived their group week.

Her roommate, Megan Joy Corkrey, hadn’t been so lucky. She and the other eliminated contestants are being sent off to some unknown part of the hotel, stuck here until Wild Card rolls around and they either get one more shot or get sent home.

Kris is going to miss rooming with Megan. She doesn’t seem too upset by her elimination though, or at the idea of going home for good.

“It’s okay, Kris. If I’m done here, it’s not the end of my career. Plus, I miss Ryder. I’ve been away from my baby too long. Idol’s been a blast, but it’s exhausting; I won’t miss the insanity. I am going to miss my roomie though,” she says, pulling Kris into a hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Megs,” she says, clinging to her.

Kris has never had trouble making friends but some of the people here are incredibly competitive—the kind of competitive that would result in Kris getting pushed down an elevator shaft. Megan’s been a godsend, keeping Kris from being the loser cowering in the corner who doesn’t talk to anyone and, most importantly, saving her from Matt. The wedding ring seems to make him think that flirting with her is okay as long as he doesn’t actually do anything.

“I hate to break up the party, ladies, but Megan is being summoned.”

Kris looks up and Adam—whose real name isn’t Adam after all, but Amanda—is standing there, a suitcase and abnormally large purse in her hands. Megan lets go of her and Kris pouts.

“Hey, Amanda. Congrats, honey,” Megan says, leaning up to give Adam a hug. “You take care of Kris for me, okay? That Matt is a little too friendly with her.” She blows them both a kiss before heading towards the elevators. Kris pouts some more; she really doesn’t want to lose her best friend in this competition.

“I’m sorry to see her go, too.”

She turns to look at Adam. “Megan was my best friend here. I don’t really know what to do without her,” Kris admits, wrapping her arms around herself.

She squeaks when Adam drops her bags on the floor to pull Kris into her arms. She’s tense at first but Adam gives really good hugs, and Kris is kind of a slut for them. She pretty much melts into her embrace, arms coming up to wind around Adam’s waist, her face burrowing into the crook of her neck.

Adam laughs. “You’re ridiculously adorable.”

“What makes you say that?” Kris mumbles into Adam’s neck, feeling her shiver beneath Kris’ lips.

“For one thing, you’re incredibly tactile. How would your husband feel if he saw us like this?”

She flushes. It’s not like Cale is unaware of how Kris can get when she’s touch-starved but they’re hugging in the middle of a hallway and probably have been for some time. Kris tries to pull away but Adam doesn’t let up her hold.

“Adam, we’re going to get in someone’s way,” she says sensibly.

Adam lets out a frustrated breath. “Oh, fine. But as soon as we get into our room, I’m hugging you again.” She reaches down to pick her bags back up and walks through the open door.

Kris files in after her, shutting the door behind her. Adam’s taken up what used to be Megan’s side of the room, upending her purse and watching as the contents spill onto the bed.

“So,” Kris starts, distracted by something that looks like a cock ring falling out of Adam’s purse, “why are you invading my room?” And carrying what may be a sex toy around, she wants to add.

“I got lonely after Jesse cleared out so I asked if I could room with someone,” Adam says, sorting through the paraphernalia cluttering the bedspread. She holds up a spiked cuff. “You think this is too much for Idol?” Kris shakes her head no. Adam grins, slipping it onto her wrist. “Good. Anyway, I asked if I could share with someone, but they said that I had to find someone who hasn’t been eliminated but has already performed. Since that only left you and Lil, and I already kind of know you, I thought moving in here would be best.”

“I didn’t even know your name isn’t actually Adam,” Kris deadpans.

Adam has the good grace to look slightly abashed. “Well, I wish it was Adam. I feel more like an Adam than an Amanda. If I were a boy, my name would’ve been Adam anyway, so it wasn’t technically a lie. Plus, Amanda reminds of this one girl I knew when I was growing up who didn’t think the pudgy ginger should share her name, because I ‘wasn’t as pretty as her.’ She was such a bitch.”

Kris nods, dazed. Adam is so effervescent that it’s hard to keep up with her sometimes. “And if I’d said no because a room to myself means that I could invite Cale over anytime I wanted?”

Adam looks up from her perusal of a pair of peacock feather earrings, stricken. “Oh my god, Kris, I’m so sorry—I didn’t even think about that! I mean, you two are newlyweds, right? I’m sorry. I can go room with Lil instead.” She looks like she’s about to sweep all of her stuff back into her bag, but Kris walks over and lays a hand on her arm before she can.

“I was just kidding, Adam,” she says, a small smile on her lips. “Of course you can move in. But if you hear strange sounds while you’re in the shower or while I am …” Kris trails off, grinning teasingly.

Adam throws her head back, laughing, yanking Kris close to engulf her in another embrace. “You and I are going to be the best of friends, Mrs. Mills.”

“That’s good. My husband said he was leaving me if we weren’t.”

~*~

She never should’ve introduced Adam to Cale.

Obviously there was the initial meeting, but after that, Kris should have kept them far, far apart. Together they’re, like, well. They’re trouble, that’s what they are. They also cause the other to regress until they have the mentality of a ten-year-old.

“Kriiiiis!”

Make that five-year-old.

They’re having a celebratory dinner for the completion of the Top Twelve—actually the Top Thirteen this year, because the judges decided that’s what they wanted to do. Everyone’s gathered at the mansion, and even though it’s stupidly huge, they’re all in the main living room, contestants and their families crowded onto couches and spilling onto the floor.

She’d barely had time to introduce everyone to her family before Cale had dragged her off to congratulate her in his own special way. Megan got picked for the Wild Card Round, as had Allison, and they both made it through. Kris spent at least fifteen minutes in a group hug with them, trying not to cry and failing.

Tonight has been amazing. Later, they’ll all remember that they’re competing for the same title but right now they’re just happy to be together. That happiness had made her think that leaving Adam and Cale alone to talk was a good idea.

Kris loves her husband, she does, but he can be such a goof. Adam, as it turns out, can match him in that respect. The two of them have spent the past hour playing tag. Or was it hide and seek? She really has no clue, but Cale called her from some random room somewhere and Kris wouldn’t be surprised if they caused some property damage.

When she finally finds them, they’re in the room she and Adam had claimed as theirs. Rooming with Adam had turned out to be a splendid idea, and they’d agreed to keep their roommate situation as is when they moved into the Idol Fortress. (It really should be called a fortress—there are at least fifty rooms here.) They’re both lying spread-eagled on the floor, whispering and giggling about what she can only imagine. The only light in the room is coming from one of the lamps on the nightstand, bathing everything in a mellow golden glow.

“Was there a reason you bellowed, darling husband or did you just forget how to stand up again?”

They both turn to look at her, wide smiles on their faces.

“We were just talking about you!” Adam says brightly, grabbing hold of Kris’ hand as she walks by.

“Do I even want to know?”

Cale grins unrepentantly. “Nope.”

He reaches a hand out, making grabby fingers at her. She laughs, stepping over Adam’s legs to take hold of it. Cale tugs at her arm until she gets the hint, kneeling down so she can sprawl on top of him. After Kris has settled down comfortably, she looks over at Adam. She’s watching them both with a fond smile.

“I want what you two have,” she sighs, looking sad for a moment.

The look disappears before Kris can really get a look at it, but she sees enough. Her hand finds Adam’s, interlocking their fingers. “You will, Adam,” she says softly, feeling Cale’s hand move to cover both of theirs. “I know you will.”

She laughs, disbelieving. “Yeah, right. The last person I dated, it didn’t end so well. She wanted different things—” Adam stops cold, eyes darting to Kris, then flicking over her shoulder to Cale.

She tries to get away from Kris and Cale’s hold, but Kris tightens her grip on Adam’s hand.

“Yeah?” she prods. Kris has been waiting for a conversation like this to happen. She doesn’t care who Adam dates; that’s her business, whatever floats her boat. Adam’s so open with everything else that Kris figured it’d come up eventually, but it never had before tonight.

“She said that she wasn’t ready for forever but I was. So we broke up. Then Idol happened. I juggled healing my broken heart with preparing for this circus and that’s where we are now, Kristine. A bitter single woman in her late twenties coveting other people’s relationships,” she finishes, sounding bitter and cynical, nothing at all like the Adam Kris knows.

“Adam—”

She gets up abruptly, heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Kris makes a helpless noise. Cale, suddenly sober, shoves gently at her shoulder.

“Go after her, honey. She needs someone to talk to.”

“But what if I just make it worse?” she asks, already getting back up on her feet, watching the bathroom door with worried eyes.

“You won’t. Trust me on that,” Cale says, stretching once he stands up. “You’re exactly who she needs right now.” He leans down to give her a kiss, something that tastes like vanilla lingering on his lips. “I’m going back to Mom and Dad; they’re probably wondering where I am. Love you.”

As soon as he leaves, Kris’ feet take her to the bathroom door. She stands in front of it, biting her lip and debating whether or not she should knock. Adam’s never turned her away but this time, she just might.

Kris steels herself and tries the knob, eyes widening when it turns easily; Adam hadn’t even bothered locking it.

She’s standing in front of the mirror, removing her makeup. Her eyes flick over to Kris then dismiss her, focused on her task.

“Are you okay?” Kris winces; stupid question.

“I’m fine,” Adam says casually, still not looking at her. “Just had too much to drink. I’m tired now, so I’m just going to get ready for bed. Do you mind?”

“Adam,” Kris says, tentatively stepping into the bathroom. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Kris?”

“Do that. What’s wrong?” Kris lays a hand on her shoulder, recoiling when Adam flinches away from it. “Sorry,” she murmurs. “I’ll just, I’ll go. Good night, Adam.”

Kris hears her let out a loud sigh. “Damnit, Kris.”

She looks up, startled when Adam hauls her into a tight hug. She keeps her hands at her sides, unsure how receptive Adam would be to her usual response.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Just. You and Cale, tonight, it made me remember a few bittersweet memories and I didn’t handle it so well. It’s not your fault, okay, sweetie? I’m not mad at you. I’m not,” she says insistently, running a hand through Kris’ hair soothingly.

She decides it’s safe to curl an arm around Adam’s waist and snuggle into her usual spot. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

“You’re my best friend here,” Kris says, clutching her a little tighter.

“I thought that was Megan.” She knows Adam well enough by now to know that she’s teasing.

Kris headbutts her shoulder. “Don’t be a jerk, Amanda.” She giggles when Adam’s fingers find her side, tickling her. “Okay, okay! I’m just saying. I’m glad you’re here with me,” she says softly, tilting her head slightly so she can press a kiss to Adam’s jaw.

Adam’s quiet for a moment, then Kris feels her lips press against her temple. “Me too.”

~*~

The pictures come out right before the Top Thirteen’s first performance week.

Adam gets called into a meeting on Saturday morning and is gone for hours. She finally comes back at about five in the afternoon, exhausted and angry. Adam grunts a greeting at them all before trudging up the stairs. Kris slips away from the rest of the group to follow her up.

“Adam?”

She’s lying facedown on her bed, shoes still on and all. Kris sits down on the bed, gingerly putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Go ’way, Kris. I don’t like people right now, even the ones I like.”

She stifles a giggle; Adam probably wouldn’t appreciate it. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone for a bit, but later, you’re telling me what happened,” she says, rubbing Adam’s back. She pulls the really gorgeous but probably painful boots off of Adam’s feet then plants a kiss on the top of her head. “Get some rest, okay? You look tired. I’ll bring up something to eat later.”

Adam turns to face her, a grateful look on her face. “Thanks, Kris.”

“Don’t mention it. Now sleep. I’ll tell everyone else you’re not feeling well.”

When Kris comes back up a few hours later, sandwich and a glass of milk in hand, Adam’s knocked out on her bed, almost childlike in sleep. Kris sets the food onto the nightstand and shakes her awake, beaming when Adam rubs her eyes and yawns.

“You are so adorable when you’ve just woken up.” Kris’ hands fly to her mouth when she realizes she said that out loud.

Adam chuckles, voice still husky from sleep. “You are adorable pretty much every moment of every day.” She stops, sniffing the air. “You really brought me food?”

“I said I would, didn’t I? It’s just grilled cheese but between Allison, Lil and Gokey raiding the pantry at night, I’m surprised we have any food at all.”

“You’re too good to me, Mrs. Mills,” Adam says dreamily, taking a big bite of the sandwich.

Kris sighs. “I shouldn’t be, since you keep calling me that. It reminds me of Cale’s grandmother, and while Nana Mills is a lovely woman, I am definitely not her.”

“Speaking of your husband, tell him to call me back. I have a brilliant idea that I need to share with him but he’s never available when I am.”

She raises an eyebrow at Adam. “You do realize that you probably talk to him more than I do nowadays?” Considering that she and Cale try to talk at least every other day, that’s saying something.

Adam waves a hand at her. “Unimportant. Just tell him to answer his damn phone. I know _you’ve_ gotten a hold of him. You two are so in love it’s almost disgusting.”

She waits until Adam’s gulping down her milk. “You should hear us when we’re having phone sex.”

The lecture the cleaning staff will give her for ruining those sheets is worth the look on Adam’s face.

“You,” she says between coughs, “are an evil, evil woman.”

Kris smirks. “It’s one of the things Cale loves best about me.”

Adam glares at her and eats the rest of her sandwich in silence. Kris waits for her to finish eating before asking for details on the “meeting from Hell, no, seriously, Kris; from Hell.” They’re sitting on Kris’ bed now since there isn’t a sheet on Adam’s.

“I thought I got rid of anything that Idol would get me for. I haven’t done porn or gotten arrested or been a stripper; none of the usual shit. I just dated a girl,” Adam says softly, looking smaller than Kris somehow.

She snuggles in closer to Adam, kissing her cheek when it earns her a small smile.

“What’d they find?”

“When Rachel and I were together, we took pictures, just like any other couple. It wasn’t anything tasteless. A few were risqué, sure, but nothing that was straight up pornographic. When I made it to Hollywood Week, I made sure I deleted all my social networking shit; anything can be used against you on this show. But I forgot this one site. It had pictures from a party we went to a year back. We were in the honeymoon phase then, all smiles and all over each other.”

“And someone told the show.”

Adam growls. “Bill fucking O’Reilly is going to run a story on it. Because allowing me to stay is going to corrupt the youth or some shit like that. It was so fucked up, Kris. Most of the execs said that they’d back me one hundred percent whatever I decide but there were a few who had this brilliant idea to make it all better,” she says venomously. “They told me I could pass it off as some experimental phase, two close friends who’d had a little too much to drink.”

Kris scowls. “And you told them to stick it where the sun don’t shine, right?”

Adam laughs a little wildly. “I’m so glad I have you here. Yeah, I did. I said that I’m just not going to address the ‘I’m a lesbian’ thing until the show’s over but that the pictures are indeed mine and that I’m not ashamed of them. Rachel and I aren’t close but we’re on good terms. I called her right after the meeting to give her a heads-up.”

“What’d she say?”

“That she’ll support me no matter what I decide to say about them. And that she’ll try to be civil when telling reporters to go fuck themselves,” Adam says, grinning. “All in all, not bad. But, fuck, Kris. The timing for this could not have been worse. Right before our first performance? What if this kills my chances?”

Kris hates the look on Adam’s face. She doesn’t wear defeated well. Kris tries to curl closer around her, wrapping around Adam as much as she can; Kris believes in the magical healing powers of cuddling.

“It won’t. America’s stupid but it cannot be that stupid. You’re amazing, Adam. You’re the best one here, and they’re going to see that.”

Adam kisses her forehead in thanks. Kris leans into her touch and sighs happily. Adam is so good at cuddling. Almost as good as Cale.

On the nightstand, her phone starts ringing.

“Speak of the Devil,” Kris mutters, reaching over to answer it. “Hi, honey.”

“Is Adam okay?”

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking, Cale. You?” Kris says dryly.

“Shit, I’m sorry, honey. How are you feeling? I didn’t mean to ignore you, it’s just that I heard about the pictures and I... Is she okay? What is she going to do?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s right under me.”

“…you mean that literally, don’t you?”

Kris laughs into the phone, handing it to Adam. “My husband wants to talk to you.”

Adam takes the phone warily, putting it to her ear. “Why, Mr. Mills, what a pleasant surprise! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about…” Her eyes cut to Kris. “Never mind I’ll tell you later. What’s up? Uh-huh. Oh. Well, I… Yeah. Yeah. _Yeah_. I’m okay, Cale, honest. I’m not going to act like I’m ashamed of those pictures because I’m not, but this is a singing competition; who I like to screw is none of their damn business. Uh-huh. Yeah.” She looks at Kris, exasperated, making a “blah-blah-blah” motion with her hand. “Okay. Thanks. Yeah. Love you, too, jerk wad. Go bother your wife now.”

She hands the phone back to Kris, wriggling out from under her to go into the bathroom. The shower starts running seconds later.

“What did you say to her?” Kris demands.

Cale just laughs into her ear. “Nothing unusual, honey. I wished her luck and told her not to worry. Your girl can sing. Anyone with ears can tell that.”

“She’s certainly something,” Kris says fondly.

“Anyway, I am sorry about ignoring you earlier. I was just worried about her. She always seems so strong but she’s a lot more vulnerable than she lets on.”

“I know.”

Cale changes the subject and she lets him. He asks her to tell him about the past week, and in the middle of it, he starts humming under his breath. Kris stops talking, lets the sound of his voice wash over the line. He pauses.

“Honey?”

“I’m still here. Just…I miss your voice.”

“I miss _you_ ,” he says softly.

“Miss you, too. Do you think I made a mistake, auditioning so soon after we got married?”

“Hell no. Kris, I miss you all the time, but this is your dream—and you are not allowed to laugh at how corny that sounds. If I’d made it that far, would you be thinking that?”

“Not even for a second,” she says instantly.

“Then stop worrying about it. Yeah, I miss you. I love you, and I miss you, and crashing on a friend’s sofa instead of falling asleep with you in my arms kind of sucks; but it’s worth it.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, honey,” Cale says, a yawn interrupting him.

“Go to bed, Cale,” Kris says fondly.

“Sing me to sleep,” he demands sleepily. “Miss hearing your voice.”

His vowels are slurring together, his accent deepening into a rich, honey-warm sound. Kris smiles even as she rolls her eyes. She starts singing into the phone, something she wrote when she and Cale first met, moving on to every song she can think of until his familiar snores echo down the line.

~*~

Adam kills it that week, blowing everyone else out of the water with her performance; Kris didn’t expect anything less.

~*~

“Did you see Simon’s face?” Adam says, giggling into Kris’ shoulder. She’s still performance-ready, metallic jacket over an extremely low-cut black shirt and tight black jeans. It’s more risqué than Kris’ simple black v-neck, although since she’s a little more generous in that area than Adam, it has the same effect.

Kris untangles the array of necklaces around Adam’s neck, ruffling her artfully tousled hair and moving it more into “didn’t bother with a comb” territory. “I did. I kind of want to make it my new wallpaper.”

Adam snort-giggles, putting her head in Kris’ lap and grinning up at her. “He looked horrified.” She suddenly looks pensive, biting her lip nervously. “Do you think he was right, though?”

“Not even a little.” Kris ruffles Adam’s hair a little more, trying not to grin at the mess she’s made of it. “There will be people who don’t like it but you did what worked best for you. I can’t see you singing a straight-up country song, Adam.”

She snorts. “Blasphemy, Kris. I could totally pull off that sweet Southern drawl you have going on.”

Kris smiles indulgently. “I’m sure.”

Adam pouts. “I’m telling your husband you’re being mean to me again.”

“Tattle tale,” Kris says, rolling her eyes.

“You love me,” Adam sing-songs, poking Kris’ nose with a fingertip.

“I do,” she says fondly. “And you’re going to win this thing,” Kris says softly, finding Adam’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Wrong,” she replies promptly. “It’s going to be you, Kris. They just don’t know it yet.”

Kris laughs. “Yeah, okay. If I win, I’ll do a private striptease for you.”

Adam perks up. “Can I get that even if you don’t?”

Kris flicks Adam’s forehead. “Only if Cale says it’s okay. Although knowing him, he’ll want to watch.”

They fall silent after that, the distant sound of Gokey massacring “Jesus, Take the Wheel” filtering into the room.

“If either of us goes before Gokey, I’ll sing a country song as is,” Adam says.

Kris bursts out laughing, Adam joining her seconds later. Allison and Alexis find them a few minutes later, and after the fifth attempt to figure out why they’re laughing, they give up.

~*~

Only a few people have left, but the house seems so much quieter. Kris is still reeling from the fact that she’s made it onto the tour. The insanity is barely manageable now. She can only imagine how much worse it’ll be once the summer rolls around.

They have a rare free day, a brief moment where they can take a moment to breathe and relax. All the girls—and Matt—are hanging out in Adam and Kris’ room, because Allison had declared that the other rooms weren’t nearly as awesome—or spacious. When Kris pointed out that one room had been able to fit four of them, Allison ignored her and bounced onto Adam’s bed, waking her up from her nap. Adam had reacted by flailing her arms around and rolling onto the floor, cursing Allison all the while.

They’re calmer now, Allison sitting on Adam’s bed with Matt and Lil, talking about how amazing tour is going to be, the latter smiling fondly at her enthusiasm, the former ruffling her hair and tickling her in an attempt to get her to shut up.

The rest of them are on Kris’ bed. Kris has Megan’s head in her lap, long blonde hair spilling over her legs. She ends up braiding it as Adam sorts through various colors of nail polish, holding one up every now and then to ask how it looks. Adam seems reluctant to pass up a glittery purple for the dark blue Kris and Megan prefer.

“But it _sparkles_ ,” Adam says insistently, waving the bottle in front of Megan’s nose.

She takes it out of her hand and almost brains Matt when she tosses it towards Adam’s bed.

“Hey!” he says, scowling.

Megan laughs. “So sorry, Matthew, but Amanda needs some sense talked into her. Girls, tell her that that color doesn’t go with her outfit or I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “How drastic?”

Allison picks the bottle up and puts it down her shirt.

“Allison!” Adam looks ready to kill.

Allison just sticks her tongue out at her. “You got a problem, Mandy?”

“How many times do I have to—?”

“I’ll stop when it stops being fun,” Allison says. “It’d help if you didn’t get so riled up about it. Mandy.”

Kris nudges Megan off of her lap and grabs hold of Adam’s arm. “I’m pretty sure killing her would get you kicked off of the show, Adam.”

Adam looks mollified. “Fine. I’ll just use the dark blue, then.” She starts painting her nails, taking the time to glare at Allison every few seconds.

Eventually, Adam gives up on glaring, choosing to pout at her not sparkly nails instead. Kris laughs softly, slipping an arm around Adam’s waist and leaning her head against her shoulder. She sits there silently, watching Adam paint her nails, starting on the other hand when she lays it on Kris’ thigh and hands the bottle to her. Lil looks amused at their antics, a small smile on her lips as she tries to coax Allison into giving the bottle back. Megan’s playing with her newly-braided hair, long since used to what she calls the Kramanda Show. The only one who’s paying attention to them is Matt.

“You two are really close, aren’t you?” he says thoughtfully as Kris gently blows on the wet enamel, ignoring Adam’s pout when Kris elbows her to keep her still.

“We are. And?” Adam asks him, glaring.

Kris gives her a reproachful look. “Be nice, Adam. I don’t think Matt means anything by it.”

“Just curious,” he says, grinning, hands help up in surrender. “You don’t have to get so defensive. Can I ask you something though, Amanda?”

Adam looks wary. “Sure.”

“Why does Kris call you Adam?”

Kris focuses on Adam’s nails; she’s not getting in the middle of this. Adam’s talkative. She can go on for hours and hours if you let her, and asking about why Adam is, well, Adam is a surefire way to kill some time. Lots of time.

“I’m not particularly fond of the name Amanda,” is all she says.

Kris’ eyes dart up to Adam’s face. With her, Adam had brought it up first and given a lengthy dissertation on the subject. All Matt gets is one cryptic sentence?

He shrugs and lets it go, sitting down on the floor with Megan—when she moved there Kris can only guess—and helping her unbraid her hair.

Later, Kris pretty much forgets the whole thing until Adam brings it up out of the blue.

“I don’t tell everyone why I like being Adam instead of Amanda,” she says the second Kris finishes talking to Cale, putting her cell on the nightstand.

“Okay,” Kris says, bemused.

“Just, not everyone understands. It’s not like I’m asking to be called Queen Sparkles or something.”

“I don’t think I could call you Queen Sparkles,” Kris says, watching Adam pout at her matter-of-fact tone.

“You know what I mean. Just, it’s not a big deal. It’s a nickname. Just like any other nickname. The only reason people get curious is because it’s a guy’s name,” she says, arms crossed and a frown on her face.

Kris tilts her head. “How come you don’t ask everyone to call you Adam?”

She fidgets nervously, picking at her nail polish. “Because not everyone should. It’s a thing. Amanda is my name, I know that. I don’t hate it anymore but I did for a while. Adam is, like, special. Does that even make any sense? I probably sound like a nutcase right now,” Adam says, laughing self-consciously.

Kris forces herself to sit up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and shuffling over to Adam’s. She pokes at her side until she scoots over, slipping onto the bed to wrap an arm around Adam’s waist and put her head on her shoulder.

“You are a nutcase,” she says, talking over Adam’s indignant cry. “But so am I. I think we’re all certifiable to a degree to want to be on this show. But I get it; it’s a thing.”

Adam nods. “My family tends to switch, but outside of them, only my close friends call me Adam.”

“And the reason you introduced yourself as Adam the first time we met?” Kris asks, turning her head, curious.

“Your boobs distracted me and I slipped up,” Adam says flippantly.

Kris sighs. “Cale did tell me I should’ve worn something different that day,” she says under her breath.

“Forget what your husband thinks! I appreciated the view. From the back first, but then you turned around and I, well.” Adam says, stammering. Kris would bet anything that she’s blushing as well.

She snickers. “You were totally perving on me the first time we met.”

“You were asking for it!” Adam splutters, hands flailing in the air. Kris has to grab one of them to avoid getting hit in the face. “Those jeans were indecent, okay? And that shirt! I’m surprised you didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction and flash the entire building!”

Kris can’t help it; she laughs—hard. Adam shoves her arm off of her, glaring at Kris as she curls into a little ball, laughing so hard that her eyes start to water.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Adam says icily.

Kris sobers a little then, sitting back up and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Come on, Adam, you know I’m joking. I just didn’t think you noticed me. Or my boobs,” she says teasingly, bumping Adam’s shoulder with her own.

She keeps pouting. “You didn’t have to laugh. It’s bad enough your husband thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Wait, you told Cale before me that you find my boobs incredibly distracting?”

Adam shrugs. “It came up. We ended up talking for like an hour about what they look best in.”

Kris hides her face in her hands. “You two are unbelievable.”

She grins. “You love us for it, honey. Plus, your C-cups are, like, perfect.”

Kris feels a blush bloom on her cheeks. “Oh my god, okay, you win; we are done talking about my boobs.”

“But they’re amazing. Seriously, Kris. You could win the competition based on their power alone,” Adam says sagely, years of theatre enabling her to keep the serious look on her face.

“I hate you,” Kris intones, getting off of the bed.

Well, trying to, anyway. Adam grabs her around the waist before she can get very far, hauling Kris back against her chest. “Come on, Kris, you know I’m joking,” she says, parroting her earlier words back at her.

“Ha-ha,” Kris mutters, crossing her arms but settling comfortably against Adam anyway.

“So there. That’s why I’m your Adam, not Amanda.”

She finds Adam’s hands, interlocking their fingers. “I’m glad you’re my Adam. And so is my husband.”

~*~

“I cannot believe you got hit on by Zac Efron.”

Kris glares at the phone; traitor. “You are not supposed to find this funny, Cale.”

He snickers. “How is it _not_ funny? You got hit on by _Zac Efron_. I have to say, he obviously has good taste if he was eying you.”

“He kept eying me even after I flashed my wedding ring at him.” she grumbles, sinking back against the pillows.

Adam waltzes into the room just then, giving Kris a jaunty wave before rummaging through her stuff for something. Knowing Adam, it could be anything from a tube of daiquiri-flavored lip gloss to a glass dildo.

“Did he?” Kris grins at the careful tone of Cale’s voice; now he’s jealous.

“Mm-hmm,” she says gleefully. “He was talking to my boobs the entire night. And he kept making sure I stood next to him whenever there was a photo op. His hand had a tendency to wander. It’d start on my waist and then slowly make its way down and over-”

“That ass is mine,” Cale says darkly.

Adam walks over, leaning over Kris so she can speak into the phone. “Don’t worry, I made sure Efron got that Kris was off-limits,” she says, then goes back to searching for whatever it is she’s looking for.

“What’d she do?” Cale sounds curious, mixed with a hint of amusement.

Kris sighs. “She may have taken Zac’s hand off of me and then put her own there in his place. Apparently, you and Adam have to share ownership of my ass from now on.”

Adam bounds back over. “That ass is too good to keep to yourself, Mills!”

She’s out the door before Kris can yell at her. Cale just laughs into her ear endlessly.

~*~

When Kris makes it into the Top Five, the first thing she does, after gaping at Ryan like an idiot, is turn to Adam and run right into her arms for a nice, long hug. The second thing she does is look for Cale in the audience, still encircled in Adam’s arms, and blow him a kiss, a wide grin splitting her face.

~*~

“Did you know that people ship you and Mandy?”

Kris falls off of the green room couch. “I wasn’t asleep!”

Allison, standing over her and grinning angelically, doesn’t look like she’s buying it. “Right, Kris.” She steps over her to sit on the couch Kris had not previously been napping on. “Anyway, did you know that people ship you and Mandy?”

She gets up off the floor and dusts herself off; these pants weren’t made to be slept in. “Come again?”

Allison rolls her eyes. “They think you and Mandy are doing it.”

Kris’ eyes widen. “What? But I’m married! Happily.”

“We all know that, Kris. Believe me, we all know you and Cale are _very_ happy together. Happy and loud.”

She blushes. “That’s not the point, Allison. Where did you even hear that?”

“Honestly, Kris, if you weren’t adorable on top of being so damn talented, you’d be screwed. There have been signs, man! Lots and lots of signs. The crowd loves Kramanda.”

Kris raises an eyebrow. “Kramanda?” Why does she feel like Megan had something to do with this?

“You know, Kris and Amanda; Kramanda. Get with the program, Kris. I knew I should’ve told Mandy first.”

“You know she hates it when you call her Mandy,” she says, for lack of anything better to say.

Allison waves it off. “That’s part of the fun. Besides, no one except you and her artsy friends call her Adam. Although maybe that works too. What would that be? Kradam? Whatever, I’m with them on this one. I totally ship it.”

She flounces away before Kris can think of a proper response. She gives up and crawls back onto the couch. Screw what wardrobe thinks; she needs more sleep to deal with these lunatics.

~*~

In hindsight, telling Cale may not have been the best idea.

“Kramanda?”

“That’s what they’re calling it,” she says, sighing into the phone. Cale’s laughter rings in her ears. “Thanks, honey. I’m really glad I decided to call you.”

“Don’t be like that, honey. I think it’s great. Don’t those kinds of things help you out on the show?”

“Those are usually guys though. I don’t think anyone’s going to care about two girls being so close.”

“I don’t know about that, Kris. You two are definitely something to see,” he says suggestively, voice dipping lower and making her shiver.

“What did I say about phone sex, Cale Mills?”

“To check if Adam’s around first?”

Kris rolls her eyes. “Do you really think I would’ve brought up the Kramanda thing if she was?”

“Dunno. Probably? Girls are weird like that. You probably told her every single detail of our sex life the day you started rooming with her.”

“Cale!” It was more like the third day. “We are not discussing that right now. I just wanted to tell you beforehand. Some of the fans get carried away.”

“Stop worrying about it, honey. You’re friends and you know where you stand with each other. It’s just a bit of fun on their part. You know how the fans can get. Remember how you were over David Cook last year?”

“I thought we weren’t speaking of that ever again,” she mutters, eying the door warily. Adam and Allison know they don’t have to knock if it’s unlocked, and Danny has no manners.

“You kidding? The sex after we went to one of his concerts was amazing. We are speaking of that for years to come.”

“We’re getting off-topic here,” Kris grumbles. “I just wanted you to know so that it doesn’t blindside you. You know Adam and I are just friends.”

“Of course I know that, honey,” he says softly.

God Kris misses him. “I wish you were here,” she whispers, a needy little noise escaping her throat before she can stop it.

“Me too. Only a few more weeks, honey. We can do that.”

“But then there’s tour to get through.”

“Stop stressing, Kris. You need to take your mind off of all this.”

Kris perks up. “What do you have in mind?”

“Go lock the door.”

She runs over to lock it, checking to make sure it’s well and truly locked. “Now what?”

“Get on the bed and get comfortable, honey. We’re going to have a nice, long talk.”

~*~

When she makes it into the Top Four, Adam and Allison fight a little over who gets to hug her first, then give up and attack her at the same time. She’s laughing crazily the entire time, holding onto them for dear life.

Allison starts cackling into her ear, jumping up and down excitedly, pointing at something in the audience. Adam sees it before Kris does, and she starts laughing too, loud and tinged with surprise. Kris looks where Allison’s pointing, joining the two of them in their laughter when she spots it.

Cale—stupid, wonderful Cale—is sitting in his usual seat, grinning like a damn idiot, holding a handmade sign above his head proudly.

It’s covered with blue and silver glitter, “KRAMANDA FOREVER” written on it in big black letters, pictures of her and Adam from various shows and red carpet events surrounding it.

Later, Allison prints out a picture of Cale and his sign and tapes it to their door. Kris takes it down and glues it to the inside of her notebook, Adam curled up next to her and smiling the entire time.

~*~

“To making it to the Top Four!”

“Top Four!”

Glasses clink as they toast to their accomplishment. Allison had pouted because she was only given apple cider, but Kris knows Adam’s going to sneak her some champagne later. Usually her mom would be there to object but Mrs. Iraheta had gone to bed an hour ago and tasked Kris and Adam with watching her little girl. Normally, they’d be stricter but this is cause for celebration.

Top Four. Kris still can’t believe any of this is real. She hadn’t thought she’d even make it this far, but here she is. Idol has been one unreal experience after another. Most of the time she can’t even comprehend it. She’s just letting it all wash over her in a wave, soaking up as much as she can. Daniel is still her stupid little brother, but grudgingly agreeing to go on his crazy road trip has turned out to be one of the best decisions she ever made.

“Kriiiiis!” Allison cries out as she bounds onto the loveseat.

She giggles. “Hi, Alli. I’m guessing Adam gave you some champagne?”

She nods enthusiastically in response. “I love Mandy,” she says. “Top Four. Here we fucking come, world!”

Kris smiles fondly at her, running her fingers through Allison’s bright red hair and untangling the strands. “Here we come,” she repeats, humoring her.

A few minutes later, Adam comes over, holding a glass of something bright pink. She waves a hand in their direction and Allison sits back up, grinning widely.

“Mandy! Mandy, you are my favoritest person ever.”

She pats Allison’s cheek. “And you’re mine, baby girl. Now scoot; I want to sit down.”

She pouts at Adam. “Make Kris move. I like it here.” She snuggles further into her corner of the loveseat.

Kris gets up, stifling a yawn. “I’m kind of tired, anyway. You two can hang out here for a while longer. I’m going to bed.” She leans down to ruffle Allison’s hair and kiss her cheek as Adam settles into her vacated spot. Kris turns to go, but Adam grabs her by the waist and hauls her into her lap.

“No. You are staying right here and celebrating with the rest of us, Mrs. Mills. Or I’m telling on you.”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling around on Adam’s lap to get comfortable. “You and Cale are an alliance of the worst sort.” Kris doesn’t make a move to get back up.

She leans back against Adam, closing her eyes and letting their conversation lull her into a light slumber. Former contestants hadn’t been kidding when they said being on the show was like being in a bubble. At least she has these amazing people with her. Kris can’t imagine sharing all of this with anyone else.

“Top fucking Four!” she hears Allison yell again.

Kris can’t wait for when they’re the Top Three.

~*~

When Kris makes it into the Top Three, she’s too busy crying to smile. She and Adam made it through, but Allison didn’t. When Ryan announces that she’s the one going home, Kris feels tears gather in her eyes and immediately turns to hide her face in Adam’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, she composes herself, turning around so she can watch Alli’s sing-off. She kills it, just like she did last night, even with tears streaming down her face, and all Kris can think is that it shouldn’t have been her.

~*~

The ride home is somber. Allison hasn’t left yet but the energy is already gone. Kris holds onto her hand tightly the entire way, Adam clutching the other. Allison’s quiet, leaning her head on Adam’s shoulder and staring ahead.

Danny’s sitting up front, trying to hide the smug look on his face and failing; Kris wants to go up there and punch his stupid face in. First, he turned the duet around on her and made it all about him, and then he butchered an Aerosmith song. Seriously. Steven Tyler is probably weeping right now.

And after all that, the smug bastard gets to stick around instead of Allison, who is practically rock incarnate, who was amazing this week and doesn’t deserve to leave. It should have been Danny. Hell, it should have been Kris. After their disaster of a duet, Kris had just barely been able to pull herself together and do her song. Adam and Allison had this week in the bag.

As soon as they arrive at the mansion, Kris puts an arm around Allison and takes her to their room. She sits her down on the bed and waits. Adam comes up a few minutes later, rubbing her knuckles like she hit it on something, and closes the door before joining them, nestling Allison in between them.

She turns her face into Kris’ shoulder and cries.

“Oh, sweetie,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around Allison. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, honey, it shouldn’t have been you. You were amazing last night. You deserve another week. You deserve to win this whole damn thing.”

Allison sniffles. “I’m fine, man. I’ll survive getting booted off of Idol.” She gives them a teary smile. “I’m just pissed that we don’t get our Top Three. We would’ve been the best damn Top Three ever.”

Adam wraps an arm around her and starts rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Damn straight, baby girl. The world just isn’t ready for that much awesome; their loss.”

Her smile cracks. “I really thought it’d be us in the end,” Allison says sadly.

Adam wipes away her tears, cleaning up the black streaks running down her cheeks. “So did we, honey.”

Kris scoots closer, leaning her head on Allison’s shoulder as Adam tries to hug them both. After a while, Allison’s cries slow down, the soft, hitching breaths stopping. She squeezes both of their hands before sitting back up and rubbing at her eyes some more.

“You two have to promise me something,” she says, eyes wide and serious.

“Anything, baby girl,” Adam says. Kris nods in agreement.

“Kradam has to be the Top Two.”

Kris laughs nervously. “You know we can’t guarantee that. That’s up to the people, not us.”

Allison shakes her head. “You know what I mean. Don’t mourn me so much that you screw up your own chances. You two are really good—better than Danny Gokey. If either of you go home before him, I will never forgive you. You hear me? We can’t have the best damn Top Three ever, but we can still have the best damn Top Two.”

Kris has never been prouder of her. She tugs Allison into her arms and kisses her forehead. “As you wish, sweetie. We’ll win this for you.”

She punches Kris’ shoulder. “Not just for me, idiot. For yourselves as well. You two deserve to win just as much as I did, maybe more.” Another tear slips down Allison’s cheek. “I’m going to miss you girls so much,” she bawls.

She goes from almost cheerful to unbelievably depressed and weepy several times throughout the night, but after some ice cream—and a batch of Kris’ cupcakes—she stays firmly at a little upset but mostly okay.

When Allison leaves in the morning, Danny is still in bed and Mrs. Iraheta is weepy, hugging Kris and Adam over and over and wishing them luck. Allison pries her away and gets her into the car, then she turns to them and dives into their arms. They cling to her for as long as possible.

“Best damn Top Two ever,” she whispers before giving them one last squeeze and letting go.

Kris leans against Adam, trying not to cry again as they watch the car drive off.

Eventually, they have to go back inside. Adam presses a kiss to her forehead, keeping an arm around her as they walk back to the door.

“Come on, baby; we have to pack.”

Kris nods numbly and spends most of the morning watching Adam pack instead of doing the same. She knows she should be excited to get to go home after all this time, but all she can think about is how she won’t see Adam for two days.

~*~

“You ready to go?” Adam asks her, a few hours before Kris is being taken to the airport.

Cale had left in the morning, calling Kris as soon as he’d landed. She probably won’t be able to spend as much time with him and their family as she’d like, but it’s better than nothing. The entire visit’s going to end up being nothing but a whirlwind of interviews and random events.

“I think so,” she says, eyes sweeping over the room, just in case. “It’s going to be weird. I’ve gotten used to being in the Fortress.”

Adam smiles. “You’re a dork, Kristine.”

“You’ll miss me,” she says, a tiny bit smug. “But I’ll miss you too,” Kris adds, pulling Adam into a tight hug.

Her arms wrap around Kris immediately. “Not too much, though. I know you miss being back in Arkansas.”

“Yeah. It’ll be good to see everyone again,” she says, smiling fondly. “I kind of wish you could go with me.”

Adam laughs. “I have somewhere to be, Kris. This weekend is about our hometown visits not ‘two go to their hometown while the third gets dragged around another’s.’”

Kris sighs. “I know, but I’m going to miss you, you tall, obnoxious giant.” She squirms when Adam starts tickling her ribs. “Okay, okay, I take it back; you’re not a giant.”

“Your cutting wit never ceases to amaze me, Mrs. Mills,” Adam says, fond, a hand stroking Kris’ hip.

They stand like that for a while, quiet. Kris has been feeling homesick lately, but the thought of being away from Adam after practically living in each other’s pockets the past few months is a difficult one.

“I wish I could take you with me,” she whispers into Adam’s shoulder.

Adam pulls out of the hug, ignoring Kris’ unhappy whine. “Sit down. I have a brilliant plan.”

“Adam—“

“Shut up and go sit on the bed.” At Kris’ scowl, she adds, “Please?” complete with wide, innocent eyes.

Kris pouts but complies, sitting on the edge of her bed, watching curiously as Adam starts rummaging through her purse. She knows when Adam finds what she’s looking for because her eyes light up. She pulls something out of her bag with a flourish.

“Nail polish?” Kris asks skeptically.

“Nail polish!” Adam says, grinning madly. It’s a dark blue, the same one Kris had used on Adam’s nails all those weeks ago.

“What’s so important about—?”

“Hush! You’ll see in a moment if you just shut up and let me work,” she says, plopping onto the bed next to Kris and taking hold of her right hand. Kris tries to ask Adam what she thinks she’s doing but Adam just shushes her, shoving the bottle into her hand and getting to work on Kris’ hand.

“Ta-da!” she says proudly when she’s done, Kris’ thumbnail now painted a dark blue to match Adam’s nails.

“Why just the thumb?” Kris asks curiously, moving to touch it and scowling when Adam smacks her away.

“It’s not dry yet,” she admonishes. “I don’t have time to give you a full-on manicure so this will have to do. This way, you’re taking a piece of me with you,” Adam says, blowing gently on the wet enamel.

Kris stares at it for a moment. “It doesn’t suit me the way it does you.”

Adam looks up and smiles, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Everything suits you. Trust me, it looks great.”

~*~

Through it all—the interviews, the screaming fans, the parade, the guarantee of a lifetime of free cheese dip—Kris strokes the slick surface of her thumbnail, dark until the light catches it and makes it glow a deep blue; she wonders if Adam’s homecoming is as overwhelming as her own.

~*~

“Welcome home, baby,” her mom says, pulling Kris into a hug, followed by her father wrapping them both up in his arms.

“Hi, Mama,” she murmurs, closing her eyes and feeling something inside of her relax at the familiarity of their embrace. Idol has been amazing, but nothing is quite like being back in her parents’ arms, like she’s still their little girl.

“We’ve missed you, Kristine,” her dad says into her ear.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Kris says, burrowing into their embrace.

She’s supposed to perform in a few minutes, but this is the first time she’s had room to breathe since she got here. She vaguely hears someone trying to quiet the crowd and her name being said before the crowd’s cheers swallow it up. Kris sighs, stepping out of her parents’ hold. She doesn’t think asking for a moment to appreciate being with her family again is too much to ask for, but apparently it is.

She moves into the wings to pick up her guitar, swinging the strap over her head and grumbling when she has to readjust it. Familiar arms wrap around her from behind to do it for her, followed by soft lips pressed to the nape of her neck.

“You did it, honey,” Cale whispers, so obviously proud of her. He turns her around to face him, giving her a quick onceover. His hands are reassuring and familiar, and the soft look in his eyes as he brushes an errant strand out of her face makes her ache for home in a way everything else that’s happened since she got back hasn’t.

“I miss you so much,” Kris says, leaning into his touch, almost crushing her guitar between them when she moves closer instinctively.

He moves it out of the way and wraps his arms around her, accepting the fierce kiss she presses to his lips, opening easily to her insistent tongue. It’s way more than is probably appropriate for where they are but it’s been so long and she misses being able to do this without having to schedule it. She’s missed this, missed _them_ , so much. She misses him all the time, as fiercely as she’s missing Adam right now, and Kris doesn’t know how it’s fair that she can’t be with one without wanting the other with them.

Fuck.

Kris bites sharply at Cale’s bottom lip in surprise and he makes a small aggrieved sound. She licks at the sting in apology, going easily when he takes control from her, gentling the kiss until they pull apart, breathing heavily.

His face is flushed, lips red and swollen; hers are probably no better. His voice is rough when he speaks, the husky tone shooting right through her.

“You have to go onstage soon,” he breathes, his grip on her tight enough to bruise. Cale doesn’t make a move to release her and she doesn’t ask him to.

“I-“

 _“Ladies and gentlemen, our very own Idol, Kris Allen!”_

Cale kisses her forehead, his grip loosening as he takes a few steps away from her.

“Later,” he promises, giving her a gentle push towards the stage.

Kris can’t hear the crowd or the announcer over the noise in her own head, thoughts racing by faster than she can follow. She suddenly registers that it’s silent, everyone watching her, waiting. Kris clutches onto her guitar like a lifeline, every note and word forgotten in a terrifying instant.

She looks to the wings, frantic, and sees Cale’s wide grin and ridiculous thumbs-up. She can’t help smiling back at him, suddenly at ease.

Kris’ hands start playing automatically, moving into the song before she can even tell what it is. After a few bars, she recognizes the opening chords to “Falling Slowly” and laughs. Of course. Of course it would be this song.

“I was planning to play y’all something else but I guess I’m feeling this one more so that’s what you’re getting,” she says into the microphone, light and happy, oddly at peace. “This is for someone special.”

She can’t help looking over at Cale, dreading what she’ll see—because he always knows what she really means, even when she wishes he didn’t—but he’s smiling at her, the smile she’s always thought of as hers.

(Her gaze keeps getting drawn to her left thumb as she plays. The lights glint off of the slick polish, a deep, brilliant blue that’s so very Adam.)

Except maybe it’s not just hers anymore.

~*~

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t, but I do, and I can’t-“

“Shut up, Kristine. Forget all that ‘shouldn’t’ business; I’m not upset.”

“Why not? You have every right to be.”

“Because I understand.”

“What are you even saying?”

“I get it. More than I should.”

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

“You think I know any better than you? I’m just as lost, honey.”

“I love you.”

“And you know I love you; this doesn’t change that.”

“But it changes things.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“What happens now?”

“You go back to her. Hush, let me finish. You go back to her, you talk to her, and you ask her.”

“Ask her what?”

“You know what.”

“And if she doesn’t—”

“She does.”

“But if she doesn’t?”

“If she doesn’t, then nothing between us changes. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, we’re going to have tons of children in between your world tours—which I’m coming along on, naturally—and we’re going to live our lives. She’ll be our best friend, she’ll live her own life and we’ll accept that; we’ll let her go. We’ll be as happy as we can possibly be without her.”

~*~

Adam’s asleep when Kris gets to their room. She’s sprawled out on Kris’ bed, arms wrapped around a pillow and snoring softly. Her eyeliner’s smudged and she’s still got her jacket and shoes on, as if she’d gone for the bed the second she walked through the door. Kris sighs and tells herself that the feeling in the pit of her stomach isn’t disappointment. She drops her suitcase on the floor, sitting down on the bed gingerly and brushing Adam’s hair out of her eyes.

“Hey,” Kris says softly, running her fingers through the dark strands, “I’m home.”

Adam shifts a little, groaning and hiding her face in the pillow— _Kris’_ pillow. “Go ‘way. Tired,” she whines, rubbing her eyes and smearing her makeup some more.

“So am I but since you’re on my bed I can’t exactly lie down.”

She opens one eye, her gaze bleary. “N’ver stopped you ‘fore,” Adam retorts around a yawn.

“You usually don’t have on a jacket with dangerous looking spikes that could take my eye out and heels that could leave holes in my shins when I crawl into bed with you,” Kris says dryly, rubbing at the black streaks of eyeliner on Adam’s cheeks.

“Sorry,” Adam mumbles, nuzzling Kris’ hand, already slipping back into sleep.

Kris rolls her eyes, yanking the pillow out of Adam’s grasp and ignoring her unhappy moan. “Stay awake for a little bit longer, Adam. At least help me get these things off of you so I can nap without fear of injury.”

She pulls at the sleeves of Adam’s jacket, helping her sit up so she can slip it off her shoulders. Adam flops back onto the mattress, protesting weakly when Kris tosses it onto the floor.

“If you want it put away nicely, then you get up and do it,” she grumbles as she slips the stupidly pointy heels off of Adam’s feet. There are studs all over them—it could double as a weapon. Kris drops those onto the floor as well—although she makes sure they don’t land on top of the jacket—and climbs onto the bed, taking her pillow from Adam’s arms and slipping herself in its place.

Adam murmurs a little as Kris settles in, wriggling around in her hold until her arms move accordingly, hands settling in the small of Kris’ back and on her hip as she tucks her face against Adam’s neck, sighing contently.

“Welcome home, honey,” she says as she presses a kiss to Kris’ hair, squeezing her lightly before she drifts back to sleep.

Kris is tense in Adam’s embrace, the peace she usually finds there eluding her. She’s notorious for being able to fall asleep anywhere, anytime, but that definitely isn’t a possibility right now.

After a few minutes of Adam’s deep, steady breaths, Kris leans over to reach Adam’s ear, speaking in a barely there whisper.

“Adam? Adam? Are you awake?” She tenses, waiting for a response, but there is none. “We love you, you know. Like, the way we’re only supposed to love each other. It’s kind of scary. Cale says you won’t say no, but I’m not so sure. I’m not expecting anything, but I hope you prove me wrong. I love you, Adam.” Kris turns to kiss Adam’s cheek before settling back onto her shoulder, eyes falling shut. “And, later, I’ll tell you that when you can hear me,” she mumbles, already half-asleep, missing the sudden tension in the body beneath her or the way the arms holding her tighten their grip.

~*~

“Baby, you are so making it to the finale!” Adam squeals as she jumps onto Kris’ bed, causing her to drop the book she’s been reading and lose her place with no hope of finding it ever again.

Kris places the book on the nightstand and giggles, shaking her head. “You don’t know that, Adam. You and Danny have been frontrunners the entire competition.”

Adam scoffs, tugging at a strand of Kris’ hair and twirling it around her index finger. “So what, honey? Were you not there for what just happened tonight? You killed it!” She beams. “You were stellar, Kris. I can’t even tell you. People have no idea just how good you are. Do _you_ even know?”

She blushes, glancing away. “I’m alright.”

Adam rolls her eyes, letting go of the lock of hair to tilt Kris’ chin up. “Stop it, or I’m telling your husband on you.”

“Someday that’ll stop working,” Kris grumbles, grudgingly meeting Adam’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t bet on it, honey,” Adam says smugly, leaning in to kiss the tip of Kris’ nose, laughing at the way her nose wrinkles up when she does. “I mean it, Kris. You’re going to swoop in and take this whole thing. Trust me, I know.”

“You’re biased, Lambert,” Kris says, grinning.

She shrugs. “I just know I’m right. You—and everyone else—don’t give yourself enough credit. I mean, they gave you to Kara and Randy for the Judges’ Choice. That’s like the Kiss of Death!”

“Shut up, Adam.”

“No, no, I mean it. They always give the one they don’t expect to make it to the finale to Randy. But you, Mrs. Mills, you decided to throw them for a loop, you sneaky little thing.”

Adam has this look in her eyes, one that makes Kris blush and her stomach flutter; she’s looking at Kris like she’s the most amazing thing she’s ever laid her eyes on.

“Adam…” Kris says, leaning in and stopping halfway.

What is she doing?

Her hand comes up to rest on Adam’s shoulder, eyes glued to Adam’s mouth, slick with gloss and dotted with freckles where her foundation doesn’t reach. Kris doesn’t realize how close she’s gotten until their lips are almost touching, Adam unnaturally still, eyes wide and nervous.

Kris is supposed to talk to her first. Adam is supposed to hear what Kris has to say, what Cale thinks of all of this. Adam is supposed to have time to think about this before she makes a decision.

Adam’s hand is cupping the back of her neck to close the gap between them. It’s a soft press of lips, chaste and fragile. Neither of them move, too tense, too terrified to let this happen. Kris opens her mouth to say something, possibly have that discussion she’s been putting off, but Adam’s mouth opens against hers and Kris loses all coherent thought.

Talking is overrated anyway.

~*~

“I can now reveal, after the nationwide vote, the first person competing in next week’s finale is…Kris!”

Her knees buckle, enough so that Adam and Danny move in closer to help keep her upright. She leans into Adam’s side, head spinning. She can hear Cale cheering like the lunatic he is, can just picture her mother’s proud smile as she wipes the tears from her father’s eyes.

There is no way. It was supposed to be Adam and Danny. That’s what the judges have been saying since the beginning, what everyone’s been expecting.

Kris vaguely registers Danny congratulating her before Adam claims her own hug, arms tight around her and so close she’s all Kris can feel. She clings onto Adam for a moment, breathing heavily.

“I told you, honey. I told you you’d make it,” Adam whispers fiercely, pressing a kiss to her hair before Ryan guides Kris to stand on his other side.

She doesn’t hear any of what he says next, still in shock. Adam and Danny have their arms around each other’s shoulders, anxious and pale. Ryan’s voice sounds like an indistinguishable blur, the fog only breaking when she hears, “The person competing with Kris Allen in the finale next week is…”

This being _American Idol_ , Ryan milks the pause for all its worth, Adam glaring daggers at him all the while as Danny stares at the floor, visibly trembling. Finally, he says, “Amanda Lambert!”

Adam has her face buried in her hands, laughing and smiling freely. She’s normally so poised in public, always in control, but Kris loves the moments where her emotions bubble over and shine through. She’s so transparently relieved; jubilant; beautiful.

Kris just barely keeps herself from tackling Adam and kissing her until her lips are raw and they’re both breathless.

She catches Danny’s eye and shelves that desire for now, wrapping him up in a comforting embrace, Adam joining their hug seconds later. Ryan pulls Danny away eventually to wrap up the show. The lights dim and Kris finally launches herself into Adam’s arms, squeezing tight. One of her arms wraps around Kris’ waist, possessive. She spends the duration of Danny’s swansong tucked against Adam’s side, letting out a breathy little sigh at the husky whisper of “Later,” in her ear, Adam’s voice full of promise.

~*~

“My girls are the last ones standing. I could cry,” Cale says to the room at large, grinning like a madman. “Here’s to Kris and Adam!”

He lets out a ridiculous holler, raising his beer bottle into the air and almost toppling off of the chair he’d stood on to catch everyone’s attention. Kris rolls her eyes and puts a hand on his back to steady him.

The Idol Fortress has been put to rest, Adam and herself shipped off to a fancy hotel. They had commandeered one of the event rooms and between both of their families, the liquor’s been flowing freely—Kris stopped counting how many drinks she’s had after the fifth one.

Kristine Allen Mills made it to the freaking _American Idol_ finale; she feels invincible. It’s just her and Adam now. In a week this will all be over and the bubble will burst.

The thought is unsettling and sobering, a dark spot amidst all the celebration.

“You okay, honey?” Cale asks, sitting back down slowly, as if he’s afraid the chair will get startled and run away if he does it too quickly. She shrugs, nonchalant, but his gaze sharpens, knowing. “Kristine,” he says warningly, putting an arm around her waist, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Her eyes cut to Adam, all the answer he needs.

Cale sighs. “Honey, I told you to talk to her—sticking your tongue down her throat was supposed to come after.”

“She started it,” Kris grumbles, elbowing him in the ribs, more focused on watching Adam talk to Danielle, her best friend in the whole wide world that she tells everything. They look like they’re having an intense discussion. Kris is not at all terrified that she’s most likely the topic of their conversation.

She yelps at the sharp pinch to her butt, Cale’s preferred method of getting her attention. He responds to her glare with a disarming smile.

“Kris, this isn’t exactly the right moment to brood over our unusual situation.” He kisses her to cut her off when she opens her mouth to protest, hands keeping her in place as he kisses her into distraction.

“Later,” Cale says, beaming, Kris breathless and glaring in his arms, “we are having a long overdue talk with our girl.”

Kris groans, burying her face in his neck. “Don’t wanna,” she mutters, nipping at his throat in retaliation.

Someone sits down next to them, laughing quietly. “Get a room, you two,” Adam says, placing a hand on Kris’ hip, fingertips brushing against Cale’s own.

Kris leans into her touch. “Will you be in it with us?”

Adam stares.

“It’s okay if you say yes,” Cale says, moving his hand down to cover hers.

Adam’s lips part, eyes darting from Cale to their hands on Kris’ hip, intimate and easy, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Kris can see her weakening, so tempted to say yes and come with them, go wherever they ask without reservation; it’s what makes her stop. They both startle when Kris lays a hand over their joined ones, reluctantly disentangling them.

“Not yet,” she says, gentle, clutching Adam’s hand in her own and briefly brushing a kiss against her knuckles. Kris knows there are many good reasons why this has to wait, why it can’t be rushed; Adam is the most important one.

“Later,” Adam whispers, eyes locked onto hers.

When there is time and no prying eyes or ears.

“Later,” Kris says, lips quirking up at the corners.

~*~

They don’t get a later, not that night or any of the ones that follow. Kris is lucky if she gets sleep, let alone a chance to talk to Adam about something that isn’t related to the finale or the tour or anything vaguely associated with _Idol_.

During the fourth run-through of “We Are the Champions,” Kris flubs a line or five due to sheer exhaustion; Adam steps on her feet with her stupid studded stilettos, and not even the charming alliteration—and the fact that Kris doesn’t really do bad-tempered, especially where Adam’s concerned—keeps Kris from scowling at her.

They’re told to get the hell out and get some sleep before the finale.

Kris has vague impressions of getting changed and Adam leading her out to the car waiting outside, hushing her when she tries to talk. She guides Kris’ head down to rest on her shoulder and strokes her head until they get to the hotel, gently shaking her awake and helping her out of the car.

Kris drowses the entire way to her room, the one with the comfy but too empty bed. It’d be better if it had Cale and Adam in it. Heck, she’d settle for just one of them. She thinks she says it while Adam helps Kris shimmy her way out of her jeans and pulls Kris’ shirt over her head.

Adam smiles indulgently at her as she rummages through Kris’ suitcase for something to wear. The shirt she slides over Kris’ head smells clean and sharp, a slight earthy scent underneath that; it’s one of Cale’s. She curls her hands into the fabric, breathes in his scent and sighs, making little contented noises.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Adam asks softly, guiding Kris back onto the bed with gentle hands, sweet-sad smile on her lips.

Kris reaches up, tries to wipe it away. “Miss you, too,” she murmurs, crying out when Adam moves to leave, a harsh, desperate little thing. “Don’t go, Adam,” Kris says, trying to reach for her hand but too tired to actually follow through. It flops uselessly back onto the mattress.

Adam laughs. “I won’t.” She runs a hand through Kris’ hair, staring at her for a moment before pulling the blanket up and tucking Kris in, who pouts at her, obviously asking Adam to stay. She hesitates before taking off her jeans and throwing them off to the side, slipping in next to her, stiffening when Kris immediately shifts closer and wraps her arms around Adam like the octopus she is.

“Night, Adam. Love you,” Kris mumbles into her neck, already fast asleep.

~*~

Adam envies Kris’ ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time. The problem is that it makes stuff like talking to her about Very Important Things more difficult. Although Adam can’t really find it in her to get upset, not when Kris is warm and soft around her, nothing but a thin t-shirt—that belongs to Cale, and that thought shouldn’t affect her the way it does—between Adam’s fingers and Kris’ bare skin—

She needs to focus. It’d be so easy, Adam knows, to let this go where they both obviously want it to. If her hand slipped a bit lower, if she let it creep under Kris’ shirt and caress the silky skin underneath. Kris would let her, would let her do anything and ask for nothing because she doesn’t think she can, or should.

Adam doesn’t know if either of those things is true. That’s a lie; one of them _is_ true. Kris shouldn’t want this. She shouldn’t want someone else, Cale shouldn’t condone it and Adam shouldn’t be considering this. She doesn’t get to have things like this—whatever “this” is. Adam doesn’t really know anymore.

Kris is in love with her. But Kris is a package deal.

There are tons of reasons why this can’t work— _won’t_ work. Relationships like this rarely do. She loves them both, but Adam doesn’t want Cale the way she does Kris. She doubts she could want anyone else that much. But she loves him. He’s fierce and protective and stupid and immature, and Adam loves every single one of those things about him.

And then there’s Kris. Adam looks down at her peaceful, sleeping face, helpless against the tenderness it stirs in her. Kris loves wholeheartedly. Adam’s seen her with Cale, with her family, with the other Idols; she’s unrestrained in her affection. But it’s different when she’s with Cale; with Adam.

Adam’s practical. (Okay, _mostly_ practical.) She hasn’t gotten where she is by letting things like rationality and logic rule her every action. Practicality has its place, but it took ambition, courage, for her to do the things she really wanted; needed. This may not work. This may blow up in her face and end horribly. But looking at Kris, Adam can’t imagine not at least giving them a chance.

She doesn’t get the chance to tell Kris any of this until after the finale, after Kris is crowned the American Idol and at the announcement immediately says, of all things, “Adam deserved this.” It takes every ounce of self-control she has not to kiss Kris right then and there because _of course_ Kris would say that.

She sings that awful coronation song and Adam clings to Alli the entire time, watching with tears in her eyes as the last note rings in the air and Kris’ family engulfs her in a group hug.

When the confetti clears, Cale is still standing there with her, arms wrapped tight around Kris as she clings to him. Adam can see that she’s shaking from here. She walks over, brushes off the sympathetic looks and people trying to make nice; they don’t matter.

Cale sees her before Kris does by virtue of her face being buried in his chest. He’s whispering soothingly into her ear, rocking her gently in his arms. Cale holds a hand out to her as soon as she’s close enough and pulls her in, folding Adam into their embrace.

“I can’t believe it,” she thinks she hears Kris say, her voice muffled. Kris shifts, her face leaving the shelter of Cale’s chest. “This cannot be real.”

“It is,” Adam says, beaming. She leans in and hopes Cale’s broad enough to block the sight of Adam sticking her tongue down Kris’ throat. “This is real, Kris,” she whispers, giggling at the stunned look on Kris’ face. “You did it, honey. You won.”

Cale chuckles, a fond smile on his face. He presses a kiss to Adam’s forehead and the way he lingers tells her how much he wants to kiss her for real. “Was that what I think it is?”

Adam smirks, leaning in to kiss Cale on the mouth, quick and sharp; the matching dazed looks on their faces are a treat. “It was a yes.”

She can see all the questions they want to ask and she has plenty of her own, but they can wait. Tonight, they have to deal with the press, the execs, the judges, the contestants, their own families. Adam doubts they’ll get a moment to sleep, let alone to themselves. They’ve been promised a few days to themselves to recuperate and relax after the immediate madness has passed. Adam intends to spend them with her… She doesn’t even know what to call them.

They’re just hers, her Kris and Cale. What comes next is something they’ll have to make up as they go. Tonight, they just have to make it through the media storm and come out the other side. Later, they’ll celebrate properly.

After all, Kris does owe her a striptease.

**Author's Note:**

> It's done! \o/ Deleted scenes to follow.


End file.
